


We Have Eternity

by casbean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casbean/pseuds/casbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quick one-shot. Dean dealing with the Mark, Cas still has his angel mojo. They find comfort in each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Have Eternity

 A flap of wings. Dean moves his arm from where it was heavily resting on his face, shielding him from the view of his bedrooms and the reminders of reality. He realizes the finger of his other hand are still wrapped around an half empty beer bottle, loose and numb. He blinks at the sudden light.

 Castiel. Standing right in front of him, in a wrink-less trenchcoat and a slightly worried expression on his angelic face. Dean keeps forgetting about the _longing_ thing. And about how close they have become, and how Cas can feel almost every emotion he has, every little sadness and happiness no matter where he is.

 “I don’t wanna talk,” Dean states in a hoarse voice.

 He’s tired, exhausted, and cold despite the few beers. And he’s still hanging on to the more or less peaceful sleep he was just slipping into.

 “I didn’t come to talk,” Cas simply says.

 He still looks worried as he brings his hands to his waist and start unbuckling his belt. Dean stretches his arm and puts the beer bottle on the nightstand, slipping his finger into the drawer to pick up the bottle of lube that always awaits there for the rare moments they get together. He doesn’t even have to move - not that he really could, he’s numb and everything hurts from the almost constant headache.

 Cas doesn’t even bother to take off his coat or his shirt, just sliding down his pants and freeing his legs to place them on each side of Dean’s waist. He lets his weight down on him delicately, as if afraid to hurt him, although they both know that it’s not where the pain really is. It’s always his soul that hurts the most.

 Dean slides his hands on the warm thighs, feeling his body up heat up form the close presence of Cas. They suddenly seem so sheltered, protected and safe in the small room and the dim light. Cas’ body towers over him, the coat sprayed over his thighs, his shirt hanging down and covering his crotch. The blue tie tickles Dean’s stomach as Cas pushes up his shirt and starts unbuttoning his pants.

 All that Dean can see now is blue, worried seashores and caring waves from the depth, and he lets his body relax and abandons himself to it. His cock gets hard quickly under the angel’s expert hands, meanwhile he coats his fingers in lube and finds his way between Castiel’s cheeks. Cas’ face is close, blown up irises not leaving Dean’s eyes, except when he shudders and closes his eyes as Dean pushes into him. The hunter opens him up quickly, just a few thrusts with two digits to spread the lube inside. He’s thankful for Cas’ angel mojo, allowing them to lose no time in foreplay.

 Cas lowers himself on Dean’s dick with a groan, fingers digging into his shoulder, his weight pushing heavier down on him. He’s warm, tight but welcoming, locking their bodies into that world that is just theirs, that shields them for a moment from the the monsters and the wars.

 Dean’s hands slide up Castiel’s thighs, finding their way to his waist and rubbing small circles into the skin. Cas starts moving, slowly, each thrust coming with a grunt retained deep in his throat. Night has fallen and the only light comes from the lamp on the desk, causing everything to feel strangely close. Cas’ hands sneak under Dean’s shirt, gripping on his chest to give himself balance as he keeps grinding down on him.

 The fabric of Dean’s jeans rubs on the bed under his ass, tight around his thighs, cold under his balls, contrasting with the pit of heat and softness his dick is buried in. Buried in Cas, buried in his angel, who’s holding him in place, gripping him tight and panting in his mouth. Their lips meet but not for a kiss, half opened, hatched breath, faint whimpers. Their hips move, the bed creaks, Dean’s hand finds it’s way into the dark hair to keep his angel close.

 Cas’ sounds are louder now, regular grunts every time he takes Dean faster, deeper inside of him. Teeth dig into lips, all moist breaths and pinched skin. Dean pants, whines, joining in without restraint. Emotions build up, he feels like he’s pouring out, tipping over the edge, but he only holds on to Cas tighter, brings him closer, press himself up against his clothed body. Anything to get some of his warmth, some of his smell all over him to remember when he’s gone again.

 Cas comes first, wet dick rubbing against Dean’s exposed stomach, spilling his warmth all over the soft flesh and the blond hair. Dean keeps moving inside of him, his teeth biting on to the angel’s burning ears. One hand on the naked waist, one hand firm around the back of Cas’ neck, Dean keeps thrusting into him, enjoying every push, every rub of his flesh against the angels, every sharing of warmth and comfort that the pleasure brings. He sinks into the intimacy, gorges himself on every detail of their bodies so close despite the clothes. Dean searches for the plush lips when he comes, digging into the pink flesh, snatching a whimper out of Cas as he spills deep inside of him.

 The clothes between them are wet, sticky and quickly getting colder. But it doesn’t matter because Cas kisses Dean, for real this time, lips slick and full of warmth and love. Dean keeps him close, hands loosening his tie and sliding into the rich hair. He feels Cas relaxing on top of him, but it’s not enough to feel safe. He needs more.

 “Can you stay?” Dean lets out, with an urge and a desperation he wishes he could hide.

 Castiel nods, kisses him on the mouth again, and then softly presses his lips on his cheeks, on his nose, on his eyes, fingers sliding up Dean’s arms to come caress his jaw.

 “I can stay for a few hours.”

 Dean nods, closing his eyes and swallowing the lump in his throat. A few hours, that’s good. That’s better than nothing, better than not at all, better than any minute spent alone in this bed. A few hours. Good.

 They slowly undress each other, wiping the sticky liquid away, until they’re just two naked bodies tangling under the thin covers. Cas’ thighs find their usual place between Dean’s legs, his arms around his chest, noses pressed into each other’s neck. It’s hard to say who’s holding whom, and it doesn’t matter. Dean’s fingers dig deeper into Cas’ shoulders, tears threatening to force their way past his eyelids and down his cheeks. There’s so much he’d like to say, to ask, to _beg_.

 Dean opens his mouth. He’s not sure what he wants, he’s not sure can even say it at all, but he can’t keep it in any longer. He has to say something. _I miss you. I love you. I need you. I don’t want you to go._

 “Cas,” he begins. “I-”

 “I know, Dean,” Cas replies quietly, lips moving softly against his neck. “I know. I feel it too.”

 They stay silent for a while. Dean feels like he’s in a warm cocoon, body melting into another substance, mixing with Castiel’s essence. He can’t feel his own skin anymore, his own endings, everything is numbed in Cas’ embrace. He feels the power, the intensity of their connection, and wonders why they waited so long.

 “Do you - d’you think we’ll ever…?”

 Castiel’s mouth smiles against Dean’s neck, small puff of warm breath as he answers.

 “Of course. We have all eternity now, Dean. We will get there.”

 Dean smiles, finally. He presses a kiss on Castiel’s skin and closes his eyes. That’s true. They have a whole eternity together now.


End file.
